


Luce e Ombra

by Sourukitsune



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21553705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourukitsune/pseuds/Sourukitsune
Summary: Felicity Smoak is a stealth agent of ARGUS, and will be sent to Russia to obtain information on the illegal transport of high potential weapons. But something goes wrong, her cover jumps causing her quite a few problems.Oliver Queen, after five years everyone still thinks he's dead. But he's still alive, not wanting to go back to his city, he stays on the island that held him prisoner all that time, or at least half the time he was so...Two people, two crossed destinies, found each other, but broke up.The time has come for them to find themselves once again, bound together by that indestructible red thread that binds them to each other.Well the premise does not seem to me so bad, that say I hope it does not suck so, before Olicity on the site.Sourukitsune disappears.
Relationships: John Diggle/Lyla Michaels, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Arrow and his characters don't belong to me. I hope you like my story... hey if you can leave a constructive comment I'd be grateful.  
> 
> 
> Shippo gli Olicity con tutta me stessa !

St. Basil's Cathedral, Moscow 12 November

The snow falls from the leaden clouds in a slow and harmonious dance, resting on the frozen ground of Red Square. Some children chase each other, laughing and throwing snowballs at each other, while their parents chat to each other watching them.  
<< Alexiel, stop! >> A little girl with blond tails screams, chasing a little boy, stuffed into a grey coat. The boy turns his head while he continues to run.  
<< You're not taking me, Sasha! >> The child doesn't have time to realise this, as he is bumping into a person's legs. He massages his nose while a sweet voice reaches his ears << Hey, if you hurt yourself?>> he asks a female voice while helping him to get back on his feet, the child looks up and meets two watery blue eyes that scrutinize him carefully.

He blushes embarrassed as he nods << Sorry I wasn't looking where I was going >> he says red in the face, the woman laughs and in the meantime comes the other child, who from a pinch in Alexiel.  
< _> she says angry, as she crosses her arms to her chest.  
In the distance you hear a voice that recalls the two children, who simultaneously turn in the same direction.  
<< Let's go before the mother gets angry >> says the girl who starts to walk towards the mother; the boy turns towards the blond-haired woman << Sorry again >> says quickly, before starting to run towards the mother with the girl while they are pushing._

_The woman watches them go away, while the snow continues to descend slowly from the sky._

_She sighs slightly and starts walking again towards the entrance of the Cathedral of San Basilio, in her dark blue coat and grey wool scarf covering her chin. A small interference is created in the left ear and then a hard voice comes out of the headset, << Agent Smoak, Vladimir Kocinski is in the cathedral, is waiting for her >> brings his left hand to the headset in a quiet gesture settling the fur coat that heats her head, puts his hand gloved on the device by pressing a small button on it << Received >> affirms with a cold voice, entering the majestic Basil. Wonderful frescoes adorn the walls of the high domes of the sanctuary, the black boots echo on the floor while walking towards a man turned from behind, who observes one of the frescoes._

_He sits next to him and also observes one of the frescoes, he does not fly a word between the two until the man begins to speak with a strong Russian accent  
<< Did you know that Ivan the Terrible, after the cathedral was finished, ordered Postnik Yakovlev, the architect who built it, to be blinded? >> says as you pass a hand in the dark beard, and then raise your shoulders  
<< But they were all rumors, in fact Yakovlev participated in the construction of the Kremlin of Kazan >> the woman continues to stare at the frescoes with almost bored eyes.  
<< All this is very interesting Kocinski, but I'm not here for a tour guide >> intervenes with quiet doing while he lifts his black leather gloves._

_Vladimir giggled mind summed up while, opens his arm in front of him making his way << On, do not be impatient Miss Smoak, do not you want to first have a chat ? >> question with jovial tone.  
Felicity observes him from above the shoulder with an eyebrow raised, wondering how that man could have entered the ranks of the Bratva in just over three months, it will perhaps be the charisma and the little speech, or really knows how to do it.  
<< No Vladimir, it comes to the point. Where will the meeting take place? >> He asks in an atonal voice as they walk side by side as if they were a couple, arousing little suspicion among other people. The man puffs his eyes up to the sky as he takes Felicity by the arm, obviously against him.  
<> sighs the man with exasperated tone.  
<< However, I know that in two days the cargo will be made to St. Petersburg, tonight, there will be a kind of meeting at the house of the Pahkan of the Bratva where they will decide how to act and where the meeting will take place for the exchange of goods, for now I know only the place of the city but not the exact location >> says aloud as he extracts mints from the pocket of his black coat._

_A grimace is painted on the face of Felicity, who begins to think about how to act.  
<< Do you want a mint? >> Question Vladimir, while Felicity broods. << Hey Smoak >> snaps his fingers in front of the woman's eyes, a couple of times << Ready? you're there?>> question with slightly worried tone. Felicity stops and turns the head, slowly in his direction, pointing the blue eyes in those chocolate man.  
<< What I need to complete the task are the day and place where the agreement will be made, and my mission will be accomplished >> says quietly to man.  
<< You will have to take me to the meeting with you, I need clear evidence, have you ever been to this Pahkan's house? >> question with your arms crossed your chest.  
Vladimir seems to think about it for a moment and then he brings a hand in the short black hair.  
<< I've been there twice, but only in his studio and Felicity, I doubt that you can get there that is not a house is a palace, has guards everywhere and are not at all friendly >> states with a stamp of neutral voice._

_The woman sighs, chewing her lower lip, brooding with crossed arms, raises her cell phone and enters some sequences of numbers and soon a network of secret information opens up and in detail the movements of experimental weapons from their last position before the GPS are deactivated. He puffs nervously, he doesn't know how many times he's checked that data again. Maybe in the hope of finding a clue, something that might give her a lead to work on. Obviously without success. He looks up, clutching his eyelids, carefully scrutinizing the man in front of her._

_< < Do you know more about Kocinski ? if by chance they keep their data digital reversal ? >> asks with a tense voice. Can not move much, entering there is a suicide, and enter it without having the confidence that there is something worth risking your life for, even less.  
The man passes a hand behind his neck as he moves the weight from one leg to the other << Actually there is something, in St. Petersburg, they have an office building where they keep their rats from the computer >> Felicity raises an offended eyebrow, looking at him with her head slightly bent to the side.  
<< Ah, so this is your definition of a hacker >> exclaims in a flat tone against the man, who smiles  
<< Sorry, I wasn't referring to you. Anyway in those offices they keep their accountants and all the paper records with all their accounts, they are registered as a clean company, accountancy offices and so on, I don't know much about these things >> he says while he shoves a mint candy in his mouth, after discarding the green wrapper._

_The woman cruels her eyes as she massages her lower lip with her thumb.  
<< What is the point of keeping, in the sunlight, all the evidence that could trap them? >>  
the man raises his shoulders and shakes his head.  
<< You know wrapped we look for an object assiduously, but we do not know that all the time we had it under our eyes >> shakes the head slightly while you fix the jacket.  
<< Think who could ever think that that company, is just a cover for business Bratva ? >> asks that question quietly, but looking around._

_Felicity meanwhile passes a hand on the forehead, removing some blond tuft, which gives her boredom << It is still a hole in the water, I have no assurance that there is the information that I seek >> states in a voice stirred.  
<< I imagine that the meeting is only for the members of the Bratva >> says Felicity in a neutral tone while, he puts on his leather gloves. Vladimir raises a puzzled eyebrow.  
<< Exactly >> says in a firm tone while, his posture stiffens.  
<< Tell me that you are not really thinking of infiltrators, I can not attend either >>  
<< What do you mean? >> asks Felicity, as she advances one step in the direction of the latter by bringing her face closer to his.  
The man swallows and restores his jacket uncomfortable,  
<>  
Felicity took a deep breath, passing her hands over her temples and massaging them slowly with circular movements.  
<< Fantastic we are at the end of the line >> says stizzita.  
Vladimir raises his shoulders << Well, it's time for me to leave, we've been here too long >> he says with a tense voice as he turns to leave.  
Felicity watched him leave, could not stop him and could not do anything had his hands tied. Something, however, told her not to trust too much Vladimir Kocinski, he felt it in his own skin._

_Who was Felicity Smoack? Very often he asked himself this question, but like every time this question doesn't find an answer. She didn't know any more, she had become something empty, and cold, a car under someone's orders. A puppet in the hand of a puppeteer, unconscious.  
After meeting Vladimir, she returned to the hotel, and as she had done for years, she looked at herself in the mirror, clasping her hands strongly at the sides of the porcelain sink.  
The blue eyes that scrutinized her critics, that aqueous blue as the crystal clear sea, empty without that spark of passion that she felt in doing her job. The once ravenous hair of a golden blond now framed the porcelain face._

_A porcelain doll, with a huge crack on the face, concealed by a skillful cold expression._

_She was tired, very tired. She just wanted to get away from that hell and go far. Maybe create a life for herself, something quiet. Not having to hide anymore.  
Those thoughts shook her so much that she closed her eyes, squeezed her lips and rocked slightly on the spot. Deep, controlled breaths came out in small puffs, trying to restore a balance in her that had long been lost. The mission had to focus exclusively on that, the main objective: to gather more information necessary for the Argus to know the place of exchange. That was the only thing that really mattered. Not her, not her life... but the mission. She was now living for that, everything else... she had left it on the street, piece by piece._

_A heavy sigh leaves the pink and fleshy lips of the blonde who passes a hand over her eyes. << I'm about to take the longest step of the leg, I feel it >> says as he returns to the main room.  
On the bed there are the paper plans of the villa, which is located just outside Moscow immersed in the green zone of cold Russia.  
Carefully review the plans of the villa, the biggest problem at that time was looking for a safe entrance from where you can enter and then get into the villa.  
you pass a hand through your frustrated hair, until it finds an entrance.  
An old tunnel, where before the water pipes passed, now disused, because it was dangerous. Trace the path with the highlighter, arriving at the boiler room of the villa << Most likely, this tunnel has been sealed, can not be so stupid >> says aloud talking to herself.  
She shakes her head by swinging her long blond hair until her phone rings insistently, making her puff.  
He stands up straightening his back, while pulling his phone out of the back pocket of his black pants._

_Vladimir's number appears on the screen, raises an eyebrow against her and takes the call answering with a annoyed tone << You know very well that no longer contact this number- >> does not end the sentence that a voice unknown to her, greets her in a jovial but slimy tone << Miss Smoak, what a pleasure it is to talk to her... >> She stiffens from head to toe while the hairs behind her neck stand up, and a feeling of danger creeps into her bones making her block.  
<< Who am I talking to? >> Question with a neutral tone masking the disturbance in her voice.  
A cold laugh penetrates the talking car of the mobile phone, making it shiver << oh someone who shouldn't have angered, she knows for weeks that we have been following her. Exactly since she set foot here >> says the stranger while Felicity  
try to step over to the duffel bag with the equipment.  
<< Oh if I were her I wouldn't move, I don't think she's in the position to do it >> she says while a red dot stops on the white tank top, just at heart level.  
She swallows several times while observing the black backpack with the two black glock inside  
<< What do you want from me, and where to get this number? >> impassive question while, moves his eyes towards the window in search of the sniper.  
<< Well simple, we are interested in the same thing... the problem is that she is getting in my way so I should eliminate it... and your friend has been particularly cooperative in this respect >> feels him quivering while he sighs.  
Damn if he felt it, he knew he couldn't trust him. He squeezed his lips in a hard line while listening to the stranger._

_< < We play cat and mouse, I'll give you a minute to escape or you'll find yourself with a bullet in the middle of your forehead. three...two...one. Via >> Felicity snarled puff, and with tight teeth grabbed the black backpack along with the black sweatshirt and slipped it in and then ran to the door, while he slipped his cell phone into the back pocket of the black pants.  
He quickly opened the door, with his heart beating like crazy and the worst feeling on his shoulders. He ran down the hallway going to the service stairs, opening the door.  
For what reason should he let her go, a sniper on the other side of the building had enormous power over her.  
She closed the door slowly, approaching the corridor window.  
She appeared, carefully scrutinizing the entrance to the hotel, from behind the cream curtains._

_Two black SUVs were standing by the sidewalk and two men in suits were coming down from the first.  
He quickly took two steps back and took his backpack off his shoulders, grabbing the black sweatshirt, putting it on immediately and raising his hood.  
He got up quickly and ran to the stairs leading to the fifth floor, throwing his compromised cell phone into the laundry trolley in the hallway._

_Her breath soon became heavy and her forehead sweated, her heart pumping at such an incredible speed that she could feel it in her ears. Before opening the fire door, she grabbed the transmitter and dialed the emergency number.  
<< Here agent Smoack, if someone is on the line answer >> of the torn noises came from the transmitter before a voice answered.  
<< We receive you Smoak agent, describe the extent of the damage >> answered a female voice in a flat tone.  
<< Mission 6-3-4 failed information retrieval, cover jumped >> answered while checking the magazines of the two guns, and put them in the holsters on the thighs.  
<< Repeat Mission 6-3-4 failed information retrieval, coverage skipped >>  
He began to hear curses in Russian that came from the stairwell  
<< Start of emergency procedure, collection point BZ4, in exactly two hours >>  
Affirmed the incorporeal voice from the transmitter  
<> He closed the transmitter and quickly put it in his backpack._

_He opened the door and went out running towards the edge of the roof, while three men came out of the door running behind them.  
Her mind traveled, and the adrenaline flowed frenetically in her veins, like bright silver. She ran to the roof frame, stopping suddenly to look at the overhang of three floors, a nice jump.  
He looked down and then looked back at himself, and saw three men coming out of the door.  
<< We don't go back >> he murmured in a low voice running backwards.  
<< We don't go back, Felicity >> took the chase and with a jump flew._

_A moment suspended in time, while she fell with a somersault on the roof of the next building.  
She ran continuing to jump over the obstacles that appear before her, certainly the jump on the building next door did not discourage the men in black who continued undaunted to follow her, shooting at her. She clenched her teeth, nervously.  
The situation had gotten all too out of hand, and she couldn't afford it. A row of steel pipes connected the two buildings, making it easy to cross them by passing over a row of pipes that connected the two buildings quickly. A bullet bounces off the concrete roof, increasing the blonde's run.  
She couldn't keep being exposed, or the next bullet would get into her skull.  
A severe pain in her left shoulder caused her to gasp, causing her to lose her balance for a moment. She carried her right hand to her left shoulder, tightening it with force as she continued to run towards the protrusion of the building._

_Vermilion blood came down from the shoulder, impregnating the sweatshirt, and the hand tinged with vermilion red.  
He clenched his teeth and approached the edge of the roof. She couldn't jump, she was injured, and three men surrounded her by pointing their guns at her.  
Felicity's chest lowers and rises, in a frenzy. The snow beneath her feet turned dark red when she shaken her right hand to remove the dark blood and sigh heavily.  
Oh yes life, he was like a capricious child, always puts problems in line on problems._

_He shakes his head and looks behind her as he watches the three shady men approaching with the tail of his eye._  
They screamed something in Russian when she took another step, but she didn't really understand what.  
She turned towards them backwards by yet another step, holding her heels over the protrusion and laughing, laughed widening her arms. 

_Only one red spot remained where the blond-haired woman had been before._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arrow e i suoi personaggi non mi appartengono.
> 
> Olicity always.

Lian Yu, 19 November 

He pushed his body to ever more impassable and exhausting limits, strengthening it with the wild and hostile nature of the island on which he had lived for too long.   
The dense and well-defined muscles of his arms and body contracted every time he grabbed a branch of the tree he was climbing. A much heavier puff than the others came out of his lips, full and pinkish that just opened, letting out the air that condensed into a cloud of steam. The low temperatures of the island at that time always put him to the test; his muscles became numb, his bones and joints ached but he went on resisting, hardening, bringing him to the maximum effort. 

He grabbed the branch above him with both hands, swinging slightly, breathing full lungs in the cold air that penetrated his lungs like a thousand frozen points. He took the momentum by swinging back and forth, and with a stroke of his kidneys he made a half turn of the sturdy branch, straddling it with both his bare feet, while with his right hand he clung to the solid trunk.   
A light breeze made its way through the bare branches of the trees, a sea breeze that hit it, taking with it the salty smell of the stormy sea. 

He stood motionless like a statue, observing the pale grey sky covered by a layer of dense clouds. In her left hand was a pendant, which she had removed from her black trouser pocket, an emerald splinter with an arrowhead as small as a peanut, held in place by a silver thread that surrounded her, forming a small cage. He watched her for a long time with his eyes absent, confused memories invested him like a river in flood, bringing to light a past not so distant, that he could not yet understand. It was like an emptiness in his mind, as if one seems to be quite consistent and significant in his life was missing. 

A cascade of blond hair, an intense scent of almonds and violets that filled his nostrils, a fleeting wrapped memory that he tried to keep as long as possible. 

The calm and regular breath made the chest lower and raise firm and glabrous. A chest studded with numerous scars. Cutting weapons, bullets, burns. Two tattoos one on the chest, a black six-pointed star in stark contrast to the bronze skin, a strip of ideograms on the abdomen, vertically towards the right side.   
A body abused, destroyed and then rebuilt.

He looked away and carefully put the catenary back into his pocket, while observing the stormy horizon, stirred by heavy rain and purple lightning.  
The tight squared jaw, covered with a dark blond beard with some reddish hues, which followed the profile, until you get to the chin surrounding the pink lips. 

The blue eyes seemed like a stormy sea, full of emotions hidden behind a cold and sharp look. A deep blue, almost blue, like the ocean.   
His attention was focused on the fishing boat that was slowly approaching the coast. He wrinkled his eyebrows as he carefully slid down, returning with his feet to the ground with a slight thud against the damp ground. 

He immediately ran to the rocky outcrop along the coast, watching five figures descend from the fishing boat. Oliver's eyes first rested on the four dressed in black camouflage uniforms, passing mountain camouflage and black glasses, mercenary uniforms.

Curious, he thinks, those uniforms seem terribly familiar to him. 

Fully armed, while one of the four, the one with the most massive build, pulled a gun out of the holster and pointed it at the back of the woman's head; his attention shifts to the latter, with a stoic gaze as he moved forward, most likely under threat. She also wore a different uniform, though. A dark grey uniform with a red coat of arms on her left arm. He squeezed his eyes trying to define the features of the woman's face looking for something familiar with her. Why did that woman look terribly familiar to him?

He moved carefully further back, retreating into the vegetation and running back to the plane. Something told him to get out of there as soon as possible. He had to arm himself and hide. He rushed in and grabbed the emergency backpack.   
Months earlier he had filled it, with basic equipment some supplies. He was paranoid on his own, but never as happy as he was at the time to have made that decision. He slipped his heavy boots on his feet and put his backpack on his shoulders as he grabbed the bow and quiver with the arrows. He came out of the fuselage, just as the four men and the woman were coming; he found himself with three rifles pointed at him while the larger one with the gun moved forward towards him. All the muscles were stretched while the man stopped a few steps away from him.

<< Oliver Queen, I ask you not to resist and to come with us >>  
the man quietly said and kept pointing the gun at him.

He clenched his jaw as he moved his gaze from him to the black woman in the middle, looking at him with slightly half-closed eyes, expecting a few moves from him. 

<< What exactly makes you think that I will obey your orders? >>  
asked in a cold voice looking at him. 

<> said the man making the huge mistake of approaching him by pointing the gun at his chest.

Everything was reduced to a handful of seconds when with the click of the hand; after dropping the bow and quiver to the ground; left held the barrel of the gun while with the right pulled a dry blow to the wrist disarming the man. The roles had quickly turned over. Oliver looked blankly at the man in front of him before shooting him right between the eyes. 

The three left behind had too slow a reaction time. He approached them with a fluid movement while the first one was stunned by the kick of the gun.  
He grabbed him by the collar of his uniform as he shielded himself with his body while the other two opened fire on him. He loaded them both with the body of their companion, shooting one in the knee while the other did not have the same luck finding himself with a shot in the heart. He dropped the drilled corpse to the ground while the last one left alive kept his knee, trying to hold back the blood that came out copiously. He approached with extreme slowness as he watched him. He fired the last shot into his skull without remorse or hesitation, watching him as life left his eyes. 

All this sucked.

He never wanted it; no one ever gave him a choice. Oh, kill, or be killed. This is the only rule that has passed through his mind for five years. There was a reason he didn't want to go home, letting everyone think he died on the Gambit. 

He looked at his bloody hands with ill-concealed disgust; he had become the dark reflection of the man he once was. Ollie had died when he set foot on the rocky beaches of Lian Yu some time ago. 

A sting in the middle of his shoulder blades made him slip out of his thoughts. He moved his head slightly to the side, looking at the woman, who was now standing behind him with a weapon pointed at him. He looked at her with a confused frown, before clenching his eyes by shaking his head as his eyes became blurred.

He fell to his knees cursing himself for lowering his guard as he tried to resist the likely sedative he had injected into him. He squeezed his eyes as he tried to fight the darkness that was falling quickly.  
<< What the hell do you want from me? >> He roared with anger as he crashed on the ground, defeated by the drug he was injecting.

The woman sighed as she put the gun in the back of her pants and quickly approached him, pulling the little tranquilizer arrow out of the middle of her shoulder blades.   
<< I'm sorry Oliver, but we need your help >> sighed at the woman as she turned him over on her back. 

He opened the first four buttons of the jacket, putting his hand into a small pocket hidden inside, pulling out a sort of receiver. By typing in a series of numbers she soon managed to connect to the satellite. At the other end of the phone a deep voice answered immediately.  
<< Lyla! Are you all right? >> He asked with a voice full of concern. The woman sighed as she stood up to enter the fuselage of the plane.

<< Yes Jhonny I'm fine, I wouldn't say the same for the men who kidnapped me >> said the frowning woman. He heard the humus sighing from the other end of the phone.

<< I should be there in a couple of hours, I recommend be careful Oliver could identify you as a threat >> said to the woman. Lyla turned looking at the man on the ground.

<< The sedative will keep him down for the next eight hours, at least I hope. Anyway be careful >> said. After receiving an affirmative response, he closed the satellite and put it back in his jacket while leaning against the fuselage. 

<< What do you think of Lucas? >> said a voice next to him   
<< Do you want to call him Lucas? >> Lucas? It sounded strange. He would have preferred a sissy actually. 

What a strange thought, he didn't understand exactly what was going on. But everything seemed so natural. So right. She recovered when a pair of hands rested on her chest hugging him.

<< Lucas is a beautiful name for a male, don't you think? >> said the female voice, kissing him in the middle of the shoulder blades. He smiled unintentionally while, fixing some sheets. <> said Oliver. He turned to look at the woman but behind him waxed nothing. Then a sharp and heartbreaking scream pierced his eardrums. He widened his eyes as he turned around looking for the sound of origin << Lis! Lis, where are you? >> he screamed desperately. He couldn't move, he was stuck on the spot, he growled ferociously as he tried to free himself from those invisible ties. 

He opened his eyes with a jolt as he watched the neon light above him sizzling, closed his eyes with a moan as he moved the grey woolen blanket from above his chest. His hands grabbed the edge of the cot and sat down, cautiously observing the bare white room.

A small square table with three chairs in the middle, and a small television set at the corner near the window. It was all very spartan and septic. He passed a hand through his hair as he held his eyes and took a deep breath.

He stood up confusedly staggering slightly toward the window, raised his right arm moving the white curtains a little as he looked out at the landscape. He seemed to be in the suburbs of a big city. The poorly designed streets, garbage on the sidewalks and tramps heating up at their best near fiery bins, shook his head as he watched the urban landscape. 

He didn't know what to think.

How did he get there? Who was interested in him now? A railing escaped his lips as the dream came to mind. Who was Lis? Someone connected to his memory void? His head hurt him tremendously as he tried to reconnect something to the voice in his mind. He shook his head as the pain increased and brought a hand to his temple, only now realizing that his head was bandaged with a bandage. The confusion only increased, making the pain worse. He breathed deeply while clenching his teeth.

He slowly turned his head toward the door that suddenly opened, revealing the figure of a woman, the same woman who was being held under fire by men on the island, with a rather surprised look. Her brown hair was closed in a short, practical cut, dressed in a fairly formal way with classic black trousers and a dark blue shirt with white buttons. A lining attached to the waist with a gun I warned him, even if the woman did not seem to have bad intentions.

<< Who are you? >> he asked mistrustworthy << Why am I here? >> He asked once again as he now turned completely towards her in all her size. She was still wearing her cargo pants, even though she was now wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt. The woman stood still for a moment and then entered the room   
<< My name is Lyla, Oliver >> said the quiet woman as if it were obvious.

He looked at her calmly as he bowed his eyebrow slightly.   
in his direction.   
<< Should I know you? >> He asked with a slight acid note in his voice.  
The woman sighed slightly as she approached the table and pulled out one of the chairs and sat down staring at him quietly.   
<< If you give me a chance to explain... >> he said, nodding to the chair in front of her. Oliver stood still for a moment, deciding whether or not to trust the woman. 

He gave her the benefit of the doubt, which is rare for him, but somehow he felt he could trust her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with the third chapter! Enjoy it! 
> 
> From now on, I try to post the chapters in English. It took me a while... but thanks to a great friend I was able to translate them, although I think there are still some mistakes. Excuse me in advance.

Chapter 3

The heavy breath, the sweat that dripped from his forehead, in annoying streams that descended along the neck. He clenched his teeth as he tried to dab the wound in his shoulder, which was still bleeding blood. Two holes passing through the flesh, a purple mound all around the wound was quickly forming, fortunately the bullet had not touched the bone, although it still hurt tremendously. He panting slightly as he moved the weight from one leg to the other. 

The dilapidated building where she had managed to hide was a heap of debris and dirt, and the smell was even worse. She took a deep breath with her nose, barely holding back her disgust as she leaned against the wall and slid slightly down. 

He didn't have to. He couldn't.

He couldn't relax, he couldn't close his eyes, or his hopes of returning to the base would be in vain. He gave himself the push with his shoulders and detached himself from the wall with a grimace as he approached the backpack.   
With a tremendous amount of shoulder fatigue, opening the backpack turned out to be a feat. He barely pulled out a black T-shirt, as he tried with his left arm to take off his black sweatshirt, his flesh pulled in painful thickness spreading to the tips of his fingers as he clenched his teeth and made his arm slide out of the bloody sleeve. He threw her to the ground with a little constipation, raising a few dust gusts from the floor.

This time it really came close.

The blow had touched her just above her collarbone, she put her hands in the inner backpack pocket and pulled out a small silver pochet, the size of an apple. He struck the lid slightly, opening it and then glancing, squeezing his eyes to see better, the wound was clean and clean, he needed stitches, but nothing he couldn't wait for, also thanks to the blood that had rapidly clotted. The white T-shirt was partly soaked in fresh blood, and was practically to be thrown away. He took a moment to think. What had happened today, placed a huge target on her head, cover skipped contact burned. 

The mission had been a failure across the board from the beginning. She had been given little information at the start, nothing but an address and a mole within the brotherhood. She had worked there for months, months doing research and checked every detail. Every single person or place where the exchange of information took place. He had checked every detail carefully. It was impossible that they had discovered her and Vladimir. Especially Vladimir, someone must have blown her cover with an obvious knock-on effect that also affected her.   
He shook his head and also awkwardly removed his white tank top by throwing it over his black sweatshirt, remaining in his bra. The adrenaline was slowly swarming from her body, making her feel more cold.   
She quickly put on, as far as she could, the long-sleeved black jersey she had pulled out of her backpack, and then she put on her sweatshirt again. He had nothing else and at least the latter had a hood, he didn't want to attract more attention as he had done before. 

Sometimes she wondered what went through her brain. She was a person with a high IQ, being rational and calculating the slightest mistake was her way of life. Hasty decisions were the mother of all mistakes. But you know, when your life is at stake or that of those you love, rationality was going to be blessed, you have to reason quickly and without hesitation.   
Not that at that moment there was much to think about, she had started from the roof of the Hotel running parkour over the roofs, slowly descending down, perhaps thanks to what she had managed to jump into the truck with old clothes that passes at that time.  
An enormous randomness that had saved her life, well that and also a big bang of her ass, she thought.

The truck had left quickly and the driver seems not to have noticed the stowaway in the chest, so he had spent the next ten minutes hidden among old worn-out clothes, until the truck had stopped in another alley. He seized the opportunity and quickly jumped out with a leap running away as quickly as possible, running among passers-by pushing someone apparently, seen or rather heard the most varied curses in his passage. She had arrived with her heart in her throat at the building where she was now, looking behind her and making sure that no one followed her. 

She shook her head slightly looking at the timer, it had already been an hour and she had one left to get to the airport. He didn't worry much about that, fortunately, the airport was 15 minutes away by car. He tied his hair in a kind of tail and then slipped it into the sweatshirt hiding them at their best, ending up pulling up his black hood. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, time seems to be on his side as it was getting dark in a hurry. I pull out the clock from under the sleeve of the sweatshirt giving an eye to the time; it was six o'clock, the darkness had quickly fallen on the city, it would have been safe in anonymity. He pulled himself up from the floor nimbly loading the weight of the backpack on his right shoulder, slowly approaching the huge hole in the wall looking out for a moment and checking that there was no one there, and then walked out towards the collection point. 

Reflecting again on her own life, Felicity often wondered how she got there. Before Russia and various other missions Felicity found herself in a huge black hole. Whatever had happened before was a mystery to her; it was all a vortex of confusion. They had told her that she was in a heavy firefight, the mission had ended up worse with her with a bullet in her back, which almost left her paralyzed. She was very scared. Everyone was strangers to her, she didn't know who to trust, something inside her pushed her not to. Only a few people who counted on the fingers of one hand had the right to trust her. 

Jhon Diggle and Lyla Michels. 

Those two people were the only people who mattered to her. The only ones she felt she could trust. Since she recovered, the only things she knew about her were her generality, much of her existence being blocked somewhere hidden in her mind. She struggled every day after her recovery, she had become insomniac. She hadn't slept in a week and the stress of figuring out who she was had led her into an identity crisis, with an increase in anger, making her violent against anyone. She had made such a mess that the doctors had given her a sedative by knocking her out in bed. 

She woke up two days later and read about it, staring at the white ceiling with a septic smell in the air. She had resigned, decided that the best way not to fall into the vortex of anger and anxiety that had taken her since she woke up was to start over. 

After her hospital discharge, she headed from Waller to ask her to return to the field. She had no objections. She had assigned her first office assignments and then, from there until today, field missions. She had become good at what she did.  
It was never about killing people, killing was not for her, only if it was about extreme defense. She was able not to find the information, without anyone noticing her, she was a spy. The information was gold for the agency. New technologies, international attacks, coups d'état, anything useful. She quietly accepted who she was now, but the seed of doubt was always inside her, her curious nature pushed her to solve the mystery about herself, she always looked for clues. Small actions and attitudes, that somehow connected her to her person. 

She shook her head in the pouring rain, clearing her eyes. She was too immersed in her brooding, making her lose her guard for a short time. She looked around noting the entrance to the airport, to her right. She had been walking for fifteen minutes without noticing anything. Serious. This time she had let herself go. She shook her head and went inside, walking towards the entrance to the private slopes. She moved silently, through a side door that led her into a corridor, to a security door with a guard in front. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, time seems to be on his side as it was getting dark in a hurry. I pull out the clock from under the sleeve of the sweatshirt giving an eye to the time; it was six o'clock, the darkness had quickly fallen on the city, it would have been safe in anonymity. He pulled himself up from the floor nimbly loading the weight of the backpack on his right shoulder, slowly approaching the huge hole in the wall looking out for a moment and checking that there was no one there, and then walked out towards the collection point. 

Reflecting again on her own life, Felicity often wondered how she got there. Before Russia and various other missions Felicity found herself in a huge black hole. Whatever had happened before was a mystery to her; it was all a vortex of confusion. They had told her that she was in a heavy firefight, the mission had ended up worse with her with a bullet in her back, which almost left her paralyzed. She was very scared. Everyone was strangers to her, she didn't know who to trust, something inside her pushed her not to. Only a few people who counted on the fingers of one hand had the right to trust her. 

Jhon Diggle and Lyla Michels. 

Those two people were the only people who mattered to her. The only ones she felt she could trust. Since she recovered, the only things she knew about her were her generality, much of her existence being blocked somewhere hidden in her mind. She struggled every day after her recovery, she had become insomniac. She hadn't slept in a week and the stress of figuring out who she was had led her into an identity crisis, with an increase in anger, making her violent against anyone. She had made such a mess that the doctors had given her a sedative by knocking her out in bed. 

She woke up two days later and read about it, staring at the white ceiling with a septic smell in the air. She had resigned, decided that the best way not to fall into the vortex of anger and anxiety that had taken her since she woke up was to start over. 

After her hospital discharge, she headed from Waller to ask her to return to the field. She had no objections. She had assigned her first office assignments and then, from there until today, field missions. She had become good at what she did.  
It was never about killing people, killing was not for her, only if it was about extreme defense. She was able not to find the information, without anyone noticing her, she was a spy. The information was gold for the agency. New technologies, international attacks, coups d'état, anything useful. She quietly accepted who she was now, but the seed of doubt was always inside her, her curious nature pushed her to solve the mystery about herself, she always looked for clues. Small actions and attitudes, that somehow connected her to her person. 

She shook her head in the pouring rain, clearing her eyes. She was too immersed in her brooding, making her lose her guard for a short time. She looked around noting the entrance to the airport, to her right. She had been walking for fifteen minutes without noticing anything. Serious. This time she had let herself go. She shook her head and went inside, walking towards the entrance to the private slopes. She moved silently, through a side door that led her into a corridor, to a security door with a guard in front. 

She approached him, one meter away as she cleared her voice. The guard watched her a moment before talking. She was wearing a black camouflage, with two guns attached you have sides of the black belt. Black shiny boots, black gloves and black balaclava with dark glasses to cover his eyes. The guard's voice resonated in the corridor, filling the silence.

<< Protocol BZ4, identified. >> He spoke in a rough voice muffled by the black fabric. Felicity cleared her voice as she straightened her shoulders.  
<< Agent Smock, mission 6 3 4, cancelled. >> said in a neutral voice, while the guard stood to the side opening the armored car, coming out first outside where a private man was waiting. She closed the armored car behind her, while a man dressed like the guard came out of the open door of the plane, going down the metal ladders, meeting them. He stretched his muscles as he approached her. Until she approached her, staring at her for a moment before rising the mountain pass, she stared at her for a moment before attacking the guard who was escorting her, pulling a fist at her throat and making him kneel down. And just as quickly she punched him in the face, sending him unconscious on the asphalt. He quickly turned to her as his eyes softened.

<< Are you okay? >> asked Jhon, observing her for a moment. Felicity watched him surprised as a thousand questions crowded her head.  
<< What's going on in Jhon? >> asked, observing him while his eyes were shivering.  
<< The ARGUS is corrupt, there has been a change. Waller died and Campbell became director, I discovered that he is the gallop of a certain Dante, and the latter is the head of a kind of group called the ninth circle >> said quickly looking at her for a moment.

Felicity looked at him stunned as she assimilated the amount of information that invested her. She did it to talk, but Jhon shook her head.   
<< Sorry but we have to leave as soon as possible, soon someone will notice us and we only have a small dark window on the radar before our flight is reported, we have to leave now. >> said looking at her. 

Felicity nodded with her boss and followed him up the airplane stairs. As he fell tiredly on one of the black seats, throwing his backpack to the ground. She shook her injured shoulder with a grimace, her head was hurting her and all the fatigue seemed to have suddenly fallen on her shoulders. She massaged her eyes while Jhon sealed the door of the plane.   
Another man came out of the cockpit. Her beard, salt and pepper, and the bandage on her left eye made her smile on her lips.

<< Slade Wilson in person the situation is really serious >> said with slight sarcasm in the voice, while the man stared at her with his hands on his hips.  
<< Miss Smock is always a pleasure to see you >> said quietly observing her.  
Jhon got a little closer while taking a look at Slade   
<< We are ready to leave >> said ha Slede who nodded with abrupt glance before returning to the cockpit.

Jhon gave her a quick look, looking at the hole in the sweatshirt, before resting his eyes on his face. << Are you hurt? >> asked as he approached has her. Felicity shook her head as she slipped her arm out of the sweatshirt with a grimace on her face.   
<< They chased me while I was running away and one of them had the good aim >> said as he moved the black shirt and showed the hole in the shoulder. Now he was worse off than before, the blood had clotted and he was definitely starting to get infected. He whistled painfully with his tongue as he felt his shoulder slightly swollen around the wound. Jhon meanwhile took a first aid kit and put it on his legs.

<< I have to help Slade with the climb, meanwhile give him a clean >> he said first to get divolced towards the cockpit. He fastened his belt while they were leaving. Felicity tried to keep her eyes open but fatigue and pain hit her and made her fall into an agitated sleep.

Drem

The cotton blankets gently wrapped her in a quiet sleep, before a pair of hands left her caresses on the body waking her from the sweet torpor. And then some kisses on her arm, pungent due to her shaggy beard. << Good morning Lis... >> secretly adores that fondness. He turned around in his arms but suddenly saw nothing more. 

She was alone. Completely alone wrapped in darkness. She screamed at frustration as she looked for a way out, but everything was dark and silent. 

Then a beat, one, two, three. Regular beats. Then a voice his voice.   
<< I love you >> he said softly <<< Wherever you go >> he said this time with a voice suddenly broken by the pain, then a scream pierced the air and it all ended.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like your opinion! This is one of my first ever stories! (apart from the ones I keep sealed in the folders of my computer coff. coff. )  
> Tell me what you think, maybe I could publish the second chapter too!
> 
> [And please, don't take my story and don't publish it elsewhere...] ]


End file.
